


Relying on You?

by Winchester_with_Wings



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, prompt, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 21:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15827343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: Prompts submitted by @book-loving–anime-chick: I can’t believe you!   -   You’re a disappointment  -  Are you upset with me?





	Relying on You?

Reliability would hardly be the key trademark of your friend Peter Parker. It went hand in hand with his punctuality. Yes, he tended to make up for it but it didn’t lessen the sting every time he didn’t show up or was late to an agreed-upon arrangement.

Acting wasn’t really Peter’s calling. It was one of the few clubs he hadn’t considered along with his other extracurriculars. But he should’ve known that the school play was important to you. You considered it an extension of your theatre and choir electives and while Peter always attended your performances, you’d been relying on him to help you run lines.

You’d finally gotten the lead role and you’d thought you could count on his support…

But on more than one occasion, Peter had bailed on you. He wouldn’t answer your text messages for hours and constantly blamed it on the Stark Scholarship but you knew that was BS.

You did your best. Reading your script over and over, trying to memorize the lines before rehearsal. You wanted to have them memorized as soon as possible so that you looked competent and worthy of the lead role.

Yet, here you were in the auditorium during your free class period, waiting on Peter.

* * *

“Line?” you asked for what seemed like the fifth time during rehearsal. The director sighed and fed it you. Your cheeks burned red with embarrassment.

At the end of the practice, the director pulled you aside.

 _“You’re a disappointment. Why did I ever choose you?”_  That’s what you imagine he’ll say.

“Just keep practicing your lines. Maybe find someone to read them with you, kind of like flashcards and studying,” he suggests. Your eyes burn hot with tears. You want to break down and say, I’ve tried but no one cares about me.

The director can tell your upset and calms you with a hand on your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have given you the part if I didn’t think you could do it. You’ve got this.”

* * *

As you’re leaving the auditorium and heading for the track field, Peter comes running up to you, hopping a fence and panting.

“Hey! Y/N! What’s up?”

“I can’t believe you,” you mutter under your breath, giving him the cold shoulder and walking past him.

“Hey, hey! Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you upset with me?”

“What do you think?” you grumble and shrug off his hand when he reaches out to you.

“Hey…” Peter seems utterly dejected and confused.

“Do you even know what day it is?” you ask him. “Can you possibly imagine what you might have forgotten to do today? Aside from brushing your hair?” His hair is messy as if he’d been wearing a hat. Peter looks dumbstruck but you can tell the moment it clicks.

“We had plans, didn’t we? Oh shit, your play!” Peter spins around and tangles his fingers in his hair. “Y/N, I’m so so sorry! I was supposed to meet you during seventh period, huh?”

“Mmhm.” You start walking away. Peter reaches out to stop you, tugging on your arm.

“Wait, wait, wait, Y/N. I’m so terribly sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you? I just got caught up in something. I couldn’t get out of it. And…yes…I forgot…there’s no excuse really. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing you can do now, Peter. Clearly something else is distracting you and you don’t have time for me. I get it. I care about my acting as much as you apparently care for the scholarship. I just…I’m frustrated that this keeps happening. I hope whatever it is that keeps distracting you is worth it.”

When you turn to leave, Peter’s shoulders slump and his backpack falls to the ground.

A crumpled up red mask falls out of his bag. You don’t see it. You don’t know. Not yet.


End file.
